Hope is the Light
by kaysue18
Summary: What can you hope to gain when you have lost everything? The tale of my warden, Zeriah Cousland. Same universe as TOA, ATS, and SoF. CouslandxAlistair
1. Chapter 1

Zeriah knew that something big was going to happen today. As she tried to focus on defending herself from Ser Darian's blade, her mind could not help but focus on the nagging feeling that everything was about to change. She was pulled out of her reverie by someone bursting into the courtyard. She blinked and turned to see what the commotion was about. A servant was bowing to her.

"Milady Cousland, I am sorry to interrupt your training, but your father wishes to see you in the main hall." He explained. Zeriah wiped the sweat from her brow.

"It is no trouble, I will go immediately." She said. "Thank you, Ser Darian." She hurried to the main hall, still unable to shake her worry. When she made it through the doors of the main hall she saw her father having a discussion with a tall, rat-faced man. She wrinkled her nose in distaste before schooling her expression.

"I trust, then, that your troops will be here shortly?" Bryce asked. Arl Howe was nodding.

"I expect they will start arriving tonight, and we can march tomorrow. I apologize for the delay, my lord, this is entirely my fault." Howe drawled in his nasally voice. Bryce waved him off.

"No, no. The appearance of the darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling, doesn't it? I only received the call from the king a few days ago, myself. I'll send my eldest off with my men. You and I will ride tomorrow, just like the old days!" he decided. Zeriah noticed that Howe looked uncomfortable, but he nodded anyway.

"True, though we both had less grey in our hair then. And we fought Orlesians, not monsters." He agreed. Her father laughed.

"At least the smell will be the same." He joked. Her father finally noticed her appearance and grinned. "Howe, you remember my daughter?" he asked, fondly putting an arm around her shoulders. Howe eyed her up and down.

"I see she's become a lovely young woman. Pleased to see you again, my dear." He said with a grin that couldn't be called anything but lecherous. She smiled politely and nodded her head, though she wanted to squirm beneath his lascivious gaze. As she tried to think of something to say, she thought of her old friend Kierrai. It had been nearly two years since she last saw her, but Zeriah knew exactly what the younger woman would have said in this situation.

_"Far lovelier than anything you would be able to get your hands on, Howe. Oh, and it is…I will not lie, I don't really care to see you."_ Zeriah thought. The voice of her friend in her mind made her smile.

"It is good to see you as well, Arl Howe. Did you bring your family with you?" she asked pleasantly. He shook his head.

"I left them in Amaranthine. They do send their best wishes, however." He told her.

"How is Nathaniel? Have you heard from him recently?" she asked, genuinely curious about her old friend. There was a flash of contempt in Howe's beady eyes before he answered.

"We have not heard from him personally, but I'm sure he's fine." He said flatly. "My son, Thomas asked after you, perhaps I should bring him with me next time." He suggested. Zeriah fought the urge to gag. Thomas Howe was a repugnant human being.

_"If Thomas and I were the last two people on earth, I would be forced to marry myself and doom humanity."_ Kierrai's voice sounded in her head.

"I've no interest in an arranged marriage." She said. Bryce choked on a laugh, but skillfully covered it up with a cough. Howe's eyes narrowed.

"I have forgotten how…bold the Cousland children are." He drawled. Bryce chuckled.

"My fierce girl has a mind of her own these days, Maker bless her heart." He said fondly.

"No doubt because you've trained her as a warrior. How…unique." Howe responded. Zeriah rolled her green eyes. She was getting tired of Howe's company.

"At any rate, Pup, I've summoned you for a reason. While your brother and I are away, you are in charge of the castle." Bryce revealed. Zeriah's eyes widened in surprise.

"Me? As you wish." She agreed. Bryce smiled, and Zeriah returned it.

"Good! There is also someone you must meet." He said. Bryce turned to one of the guards that stood by the door. "Please, show Duncan in." he ordered. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a pair of daggers on his back strode into the room. His skin was a dark, chocolate brown, and his dark eyes were absorbing everything in the room. They flitted over to her, and she felt like the man knew everything about her with a single glance. She had no doubt that this man was a hardened warrior, and she wondered what he was doing here.

"It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland." The man said in a deep, smooth voice. Arl Howe looked frightened for some reason, and he uncomfortably cleared his throat.

"Your Lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present." He stammered awkwardly. Zeriah's eyes widened. A Grey Warden! They were legendary warriors, vanquishers of darkspawn! What would one be doing in Highever?

"A Warden? I am honored, Ser Duncan." She said, awestruck. A small smile crossed his serious face.

"Please, my lady, it is simply Duncan. And the honor is mine." He assured her.

"Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore." Bryce explained. Duncan hadn't taken his eyes off of Zeriah.

"If I might be so bold, I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate." He pointed out. Zeriah was so full of pride, she couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face. Her hopes were shot when Bryce stepped in front of her, however.

"Honor though that might be, this is my daughter we're talking about." He growled. Zeriah stared at the back of her father's head.

"Father, I think we should consider it." She suggested. He turned around and frowned at her.

"I've not so many children that I'll gladly see them all off to battle. Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription?" he asked, his tone defensive. Duncan shook his head.

"Have no fear. While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I have no intention of forcing the issue." He assured them. Zeriah frowned as Bryce let out a sigh of relief.

"Pup, I need you to find Fergus and tell him that he will be setting out tonight." He said, hurriedly changing the subject. Zeriah nodded, frown still in place. Bryce pulled her into an embrace and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, Zeriah." He murmured. She smiled softly.

"I love you too." She admitted grudgingly. She gave a nod to their companions and left the hall to find her brother. A familiar mop of red hair greeted her.

"Zeri, your mother needs you to retrieve your hound from the larder before Nan's head explodes." Ser Gilmore said. Zeriah groaned.

"He broke in again? Maker's Breath, you would think she would lock the larder more tightly." She said, exasperated. Rory Gilmore laughed.

"You would blame the kitchen staff instead of your dog." He chuckled. She grinned and headed to the kitchens, where shouts and barking could be heard. Nan was throwing an absolute fit, and she wasn't any happier when Zeriah told her that her Mabari, Dane, had saved the larder from giant rats. As soon as Dane was retrieved and Nan was calmed down, Zeriah headed off to find Fergus. She walked in on him kissing his wife, Oriana.

"Ugh, you two are nauseating me." She teased. They broke apart and Fergus grinned at her.

"You'll see things differently when you have a man of your own, sister." He laughed. She rolled her eyes.

"Father wanted me to tell you that you'll be leaving tonight." She explained. Fergus frowned, worry in his brown eyes.

"So the Arl's men are delayed then? I suppose I should get going." He said.

"I would hope, dear boy, that you planned to wait for us before leaving?" Bryce said as he and Eleanor entered the room. Zeriah chuckled, realizing that her father had just been trying to get everyone together. Eleanor rushed over to embrace Fergus.

"Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety every day that you are gone." She said. Zeriah felt a tugging on the tail of her shirt.

"Father says you'll be watching over us, is that true Auntie?" Oren asked. She opened her mouth to answer, but he just continued talking. "Will you teach me how to use a sword, Auntie?" She grinned at him.

"Sure, let's go!" she agreed, causing the child's face to light up with excitement. Oriana groaned.

"Fergus, there are times your family causes me great pain." She pleaded. Fergus laughed as he crouched before his son.

"Mind your mother, Oren." He said fondly. Oren pouted, but Fergus pulled his only son into a tight hug. "I love you, my boy. Be good for your mother and aunt while I'm gone. And don't worry, you'll get to see a sword up close real soon, I promise." Fergus said his goodbyes to Oriana and their parents before turning to Zeriah. She looked up at her brother, feeling a spike of sadness as she realized the danger he was in. He saw her expression and crushed her to his chest.

"I'll miss you, Gus." She murmured. She could feel the chuckle rumble through his chest.

"I'll miss you too, Shorty." He admitted. She glared up at him.

"I thought we were past that nickname." She hissed.

"I thought you were going to get a bit taller, but clearly we were both wrong." He teased. His expression became serious. "Promise me you'll take care of them, sister." He whispered, gesturing to his wife and son. She gave a sharp nod.

"I promise, brother." She agreed. He grinned at her.

"Good. Now off to bed, you have a long day tomorrow." He said. She nodded and went off to bed. As she absently scratched behind Dane's ears, she felt, once again, that something big was coming.


	2. Chapter 2

She woke up to Dane jumping on her chest, barking loudly. She raised a hand, and he immediately stopped, which made her aware of the shouting in the hall. Her eyes widened and she silently crawled out of her bed and began dressing herself. She gritted her teeth as she put on her scale armor: It was a bit looser than she was used to, but she had never had to put it on by herself before, and she didn't have time to fix it. She grabbed a sword and shield and cautiously opened her door. An arrow whizzed by her face, and she shouted for Dane to attack. The four men that were in the hall were soon dead, and Zeriah sighed in relief when her mother appeared. She embraced the taller woman before looking at the bodies around them.

"Are you hurt?" Eleanor asked, checking Zeriah for injuries. Zeriah shook her head.

"I'm fine mother." She assured her. Eleanor was frantic.

"Did you see their shields? Those are Howe's men! Why would they attack us?" she cried. Zeriah shook her head, an icy fury filling her. The image of the great bear embossed on the shields of the dead enraged her. She had never liked Howe, but she never believed that he would betray them like this. It felt as though the ground was being yanked from beneath her feet.

"He's betrayed father. Come, we need to check on Oren and Oriana." She said, turning away from her mother. As she placed her hand on the door to Fergus' room, cold fear filled her. Her instincts knew what she would find on the other side of the door. All the blood left her face when she finally went inside. She saw Oriana first, her clothes torn from her body. She had clearly been violated before they took her life. It was Oren that made her scream in devastation. Her nephew's poor, broken body lay discarded on the floor behind Oriana, a wooden sword near his corpse. He had obviously tried to defend his mother. The sight made her feel as though her heart was being forcibly torn through her chest, and a hoarse sob escaped her. She wanted to vomit, but she was so distraught that her body couldn't even manage the action. She had never felt so agonized in her life.

"Maker, no! My Oren!" Eleanor cried when she finally entered the room. Zeriah felt her body shaking with sobs as she looked at her slain family. Yet, through the anguish, she knew that she had to survive. Dane tugged insistently at her arm. Her Mabari knew that they had to leave just as much as she did.

"Come, mother, we have to get out of here. Please." She said, her soft voice breaking. Eleanor stood, knowing that her daughter was right.

"We should go to the treasury and retrieve the family sword." She whispered shakily. Zeriah nodded and they left the bodies behind them. Waves of Howe soldiers continued to attack them, but by the time they reached the treasury they were unopposed. Zeriah used her mother's key to open the door, and once inside she saw the blade resting on its stand. She tossed aside her own sword and reverently lifted the Cousland blade, strapping its sheath to her back.

"Here, take this too." Eleanor said as she handed her the Shield of Highever. Zeriah stared at her mother. If she was giving her both the sword and shield of Highever, everything was truly lost. She hefted the large shield onto her left arm and gave her mother a determined nod.

"Let's find father." She ordered, heading out of the treasury, Dane on her heels. They followed the sound of battle to the main hall, where Ser Gilmore was trying to hold the doors.

"Zeri! My lady, you must get out of here! Teyrn Cousland was headed toward the servant's entrance, go to him." he yelled. Zeriah shook her head.

"Rory, you are going to come with us. You have to." She begged. Her oldest friend smiled sadly at her. She shook her head, already hating the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

"If I go with you, you will never make it out of the castle. You have always been my best friend." He told her. She threw her arms around him as she sobbed. He squeezed her tightly for a moment before practically shoving her away. "Go, Zeri. Live." He ordered, turning back to the men barring the door. The tears were flowing down her face as she left the hall with her mother in tow. As they burst through the door to the larder, Dane barked and Zeriah's eyes immediately found her father lying in a pool of his own blood.

"Father!" she cried as she threw herself to his side. The wound in his flesh was jagged and gushing with blood. She pressed her palms to it, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Howe's men…found me first. Almost…did me in right there." He mumbled, his eyes switching from hazy to clear and back again as he tried to focus on her face.

"Bryce, how did you make it this far?" Eleanor cried, touching her husband's face tenderly. Zeriah couldn't look away from the blood that was pulsing through the spaces between her fingers.

"Duncan found me. Brought me here." He explained.

"Is he still here? Can he help us?" Zeriah asked. Her mind was running on instincts. It felt as though her real personality was being locked inside a box in her mind, while an emotionless, tactical being was taking over. Numbness crept over her as surely as her father's life crept over her hands.

"Once Howe's men breach the gates, they will find us. We must go!" Eleanor sobbed.

"Someone must tell Fergus." Bryce murmured. His speech was getting slurred and harder to understand. His breathing was labored and uneven. Eleanor was shaking her head. Zeriah's thoughts stopped being coherent.

"Bryce, no! The servant's passage is right here! We can flee together! We can get you help." She said, panicked. Bryce touched Eleanor's face sadly.

"We are surrounded. I won't make it." He told her. Zeriah couldn't even cry anymore. She felt empty. She had never seen her father so weak. He was her rock. He was the strongest person she knew. This couldn't be happening.

"The Teyrn is correct. Howe's men haven't discovered this exit, yet, but escaping will still be difficult." Duncan said as he entered the larder.

"You are Duncan, the Grey Warden?" Eleanor asked through her tears.

"Yes, your ladyship. We tried to reach you sooner." He admitted. Eleanor smiled woefully at Zeriah.

"My daughter helped me get here. Maker be praised." She said fondly. Duncan looked back at her, and Zeriah was suddenly filled with dread.

"I am not surprised." He said.

"Duncan, I beg you: Take my wife and daughter to safety." Bryce said, his voice clear for the first time since they found him.

"I will, your lordship, but I'm afraid I must ask for something in return." He replied, looking meaningfully at Zeriah. She closed her eyes, knowing what he was going to request.

"Anything!" Bryce cried.

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world-" Duncan began. Zeriah couldn't take it anymore.

"I will join the Wardens. Just get us out of here." She snapped. Duncan nodded sharply.

"I will take the Teyrna and your daughter to Ostagar, to tell Fergus and the king what happened. Then, Zeriah joins the Grey Wardens." He agreed. Zeriah's entire body was trembling. She was losing everything. Oren. Oriana. Rory. Father.

"I agree." Bryce decided.

"Bryce, are you sure?" Eleanor asked shakily.

"Our daughter will not die of Howe's treachery. She will live, and make her mark on the world." He declared. Her mother had a strange look in her eye. Zeriah's heart dropped at the determined expression on Eleanor's face. Not her. She couldn't lose her too.

"Zeriah, go with Duncan. You will have a better chance of escaping without me." The regal woman said softly.

"Eleanor-" Bryce began.

"Hush, Bryce. I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time, but I won't abandon you. I made that promise when we said our vows, and I will not break it." She interrupted. The last fragment of Zeriah's heart shattered, and she felt it slice through her soul. She whimpered like a lost puppy, and Dane nudged her side sadly.

"I love you both." She whispered. Eleanor touched her cheek and smiled sadly.

"Then live, darling. Become a Grey Warden, and do what is right." She said. Zeriah kissed her parents goodbye for the last time before following Duncan out of the larder and into the night, Dane at her heels and tears cascading down her cheeks.

* * *

Alistair wandered through the camp, trying to find the mage that was mentioned by the Revered Mother. He saw him standing in a clearing of stone, muttering to himself. He cleared his throat, and the mage turned and glared at him with beady eyes.

"What is it, boy?" the mage asked. Alistair put a hand on his chest in mock despair.

"Boy? Have we been reduced to petty insults now? I only came to give you a message, Ser mage!" he wailed. The mage scoffed.

"Haven't the Grey Warden's asked more than enough of the Circle?" he asked. Alistair noticed a third party joining them, but he didn't turn to see who it was.

"I simply came to deliver a message from the revered mother, Ser mage. She desires your presence." He said cheekily. The mage looked like steam was about to come out of his ears.

"What her Reverence 'desires' is of no concern to me! I am buys helping the Grey Wardens—by the King's orders I might add!" he shouted. Alistair widened his honey brown eyes in mock surprise.

"Should I have asked her to write a note?" he asked innocently.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!" the mage huffed before storming out of the clearing. Alistair turned toward their silent observer and the laughter died on his lips.

She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. She was quite small. If she stood next to him he was certain she would only reach his chest, and that was an exaggeration. Her ebony hair was pulled into a messy braid that fell to her waist, and it contrasted sharply with her smooth, pale skin. A dusting of dark freckles covered her nose and high cheekbones. Her full lips were in a tight line, and the expression finally drew his gaze up to her eyes. He flinched at the sight of them. The large green orbs would have been beautiful under normal circumstances, but at the moment they were empty. It was like looking into the eyes of a corpse. He wondered what caused that, and a part of him felt the urge to put light back into those beautiful eyes. He shook off his thoughts and put a friendly smile on his face.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." He blurted. He could feel his cheeks redden. _"Smooth, Alistair. Idiot."_ He thought to himself. The girl standing before him did not change her expression. This was going to be a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." The tall man in front of her said. Zeriah stared at him with a blank expression. She was not in the mood for a sense of humor. She was not in the mood for anything.

Over a week had passed since the massacre, and not a word had passed her lips. Duncan tried speaking to her, but she had nothing she wanted to say. She had no questions, no curiosity, and no interest. She didn't even know why she was still alive. She didn't want to be. Nothing mattered anymore. It wasn't until they ran into King Cailan on their way into camp that she found a reason to speak.

_"You look familiar, my lady. Have we met?" the young king asked. Her vacant eyes flitted up to his._

_ "I am the youngest child of Bryce Cousland, a man who was betrayed by his friend. A man who now lies dead because of Howe's treachery." She said in tones that would rival a Tranquil's. Cailan's eyes widened in surprise._

_ "Dead? Duncan, what is she talking about?" he asked in shock. Duncan sighed._

_ "She speaks the truth, your grace. Rendon Howe delayed his men in order to massacre everyone in Cousland Castle. Lady Zeriah is the only survivor." He said. Cailan looked sad, and his expression reminded her of a child who was learning what sorrow was for the first time._

_ "I assure you, my lady, Howe will have justice. I am sure you wish to see your brother, but unfortunately he is scouting in the Wilds, and I do not know when he will return." The king told her. She looked up at him, the emptiness in her gaze making him shift uncomfortably._

_ "I am not eager to tell him that his wife and child are dead alongside our parents and everything we have ever known." She said blankly. The king blanched and nodded._

_ "Well, I should be going. Howe _will_ have justice, my lady, I promise." He said before leaving them on the road._

The tall blonde man was clearly uncomfortable, and she realized that she had been staring at him the entire time she was reliving the conversation.

"Are you Alistair?" she asked. He shuddered at her hollow tone before answering her question.

"Err- yes, I am. You must be the new recruit. Duncan sent word about you. Apparently you are quite formidable." He said, trying to make conversation. Her expression was unchanging.

"I am Zeriah." She replied blandly. He nodded.

"Yes, that was it. Lovely name." he stammered. She did not respond, and Alistair ran a hand through his short hair. "Ahem, let's find Duncan, shall we?" he asked. She stared at him and he turned from her, heading toward the center of camp. Zeriah could tell that he knew she was following, but thankfully he did not try to make any more small talk.

Under normal circumstances, Zeriah would have been fine with chatting with Alistair. He was handsome and he had an awkward charm that was quite endearing. But Zeriah wasn't the same person anymore. In fact, she wasn't sure that she really was a person anymore. She felt nothing. Not sorrow, not pain, not fear, not loss. She was a husk of the girl she had been a week ago. There was not much difference between her and the Tranquil mages. Other than the brands on their foreheads, she would blend in with them perfectly. Even Dane couldn't bring life back to her. The poor Mabari shoved his head under her hand as soon as they reached Duncan's side, and she absently scratched behind his ears, but there was no love in the gesture.

"You found Alistair, did you? Good. This is Daveth and Ser Jory, the other two recruits that will be joining you." Duncan said, gesturing to two new men that had joined them at the fire. The other recruits beamed at her, but their faces fell as soon as they saw her emotionless features. Zeriah noticed Alistair's eyes on her, but she didn't even flinch. The young Warden cleared his throat.

"This is Zeriah. We are all very glad to have her here with us." He said smoothly. She saw the fake smiles plastered across everyone's faces, and couldn't bring herself to care.

"What do you need us to do, Duncan?" she asked. Sadness flashed through the older man's eyes while he looked at her.

"The four of you will go into the Wilds to retrieve three vials of Darkspawn blood. After that, you will need to go to a Warden Ruin and Alistair will recover some old treaties from a chest that is there. Understood?" he asked. She nodded and looked to Alistair, who was now in charge. He kept shooting quick glances at her, but she ignored them.

"Let's go." He said simply, turning and leading them toward the gates that protected them from the Korcari Wilds. Zeriah felt the familiar presence of Dane by her side, and she knew that her hound was trying to protect her. Daveth kept grinning at her and running his eyes all over her body. He slowed his steps so that he would be closer to her, and Dane growled softly.

"So, what brings you to this part of the world? You look too pretty to be a fighter." The rogue said flirtatiously. Zeriah kept her eyes on the forest.

"Duncan." She answered. Daveth waited for more of a response, but she wouldn't give it. He shrugged and continued.

"Say, if you are looking for…company later, I would be more than willing to-"he began. He was cut off by a very angry Mabari shoving his way between him and his mistress. Zeriah's lips actually quirked at Dane's protective nature. She had taught him to do that a year ago when the stable boy wouldn't stop flirting with her. A massive, growling dog was generally enough to scare away unwanted suitors. Her small smile faded as soon as it appeared, and an unexpected stab of pain flashed through her at the memory. That stable boy had been at Castle Cousland that night, and he was probably dead too.

"_Focus, Zeriah._" She told herself. If she couldn't feel, she couldn't miss her family. She didn't need emotions, anyway. Daveth took the hint and moved to walk beside Ser Jory instead. Alistair, however, stayed by her side. He didn't say anything, and part of her felt comforted by his presence.

It didn't take long for them to encounter darkspawn. After being attacked by a pack of wolves and finding a wounded soldier in the forest, a lone figure appeared at the top of a hill. Zeriah actually felt a spike of fear at the sight. The creature was grotesque. It was humanoid in nature, with a strong looking musculature, but its skin was puckered and rotting, almost as though it was just barely clinging to its face. Black saliva dribbled from the corners of the creature's mouth, and when it noticed them, it roared, causing the foamy spittle to spray the air in front of it.

"That's a Hurlock. They're the most 'human' of the bunch. Genlocks resemble dwarves, you see, while Shrieks are comparable to elves." Alistair explained. Zeriah nodded in understanding as she drew the Cousland blade from its sheath. It didn't matter what it was; That creature couldn't stand against her. She rushed forward, knocking the beast down with her shield before stabbing it through its putrefied heart. It screamed and gurgled as it died, and she quickly wiped the tainted blood from her blade before turning back to the others. Alistair handed her a vial, and she noticed that all the men had shocked looks on their faces.

"Maker's breath." Jory whispered.

"That was bloody terrifying." Daveth added. Alistair had a silly grin on his face.

"This vial is definitely yours. You've earned it." He said proudly. She filled the vial and moved on without saying a word. They had more important things to do than gush about her fighting capabilities. There weren't many more darkspawn, but Daveth and Jory eventually got their vials as well. Finally, after hours of tramping through the boggy forest, they encountered the ruins. The chest that was supposed to hold the documents, however, was cracked and empty.

"Of course." Alistair mumbled to himself. Zeriah closed her eyes. Half of their mission had been for nothing.

"Well, well, what have we here?" a sultry voice asked from behind them. Daveth and Jory scrambled to draw their weapons, but Zeriah just stared at the scantily clad woman that was descending the stairs. The woman's raven hair was stark against her pale skin, and cold, calculating gold eyes studied them intently. She was young, probably not any older than Zeriah herself, but there was a certain wise aura about her that made her seem older.

"Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones have long since been cleaned?" the woman continued. Alistair cleared his throat.

"This tower once belonged to the Grey Wardens." He pointed out. The woman laughed coldly.

"Tis a tower no longer. The Wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse." She argued. Zeriah moved to the front of the group, tired of the games. Alistair noticed her determined expression.

"Be careful, she looks Chasind." He said quietly. The woman chuckled.

"What's the matter? Worried barbarians will swoop down from the forest?" she teased. The young warden glared at her.

"Yes…swooping…is bad." He growled. The woman rolled her golden eyes.

"You there, women do not frighten like little boys. Give me your name and I shall give you mine." She suggested.

"I am Zeriah." She replied blandly. The woman nodded happily.

"You may call me Morrigan. I assume you are here to look for something? Something that is here no longer?" Morrigan asked.

"Treaties. Do you have them?" Zeriah asked, her patience running thin. Morrigan chuckled.

" 'twas my mother who took them." She answered. Zeriah ignored the protests of the men behind her.

"Will you take us to her?" she asked shortly. Morrigan smiled.

"I will indeed. I like you." She decided. Alistair sidled closer to her.

"I'd be careful. First it's 'I like you!' then 'ZAP!', frog time." He warned. Zeriah felt Daveth's elbow jab into her ribs.

"She's a witch of the wilds, she is! They'll put us in the pot!" he fretted. Surprisingly, it was Ser Jory who spoke up.

"If the pot is warmer than this forest, I see no problem with that." He quipped. Zeriah gestured for Morrigan to lead the way, and they followed her to a small, lonely hut nearby. An old woman stood before it, but she was obviously no ordinary woman. She wore tightly fitting armor in shades of red and black, with pauldrons made of raven's feathers. Her white hair was twisted back into four threatening horns that were held back by an iron circlet. Her golden eyes studied them with more intensity than even Morrigan's had. The sharp gaze lingered on Zeriah for a long time. The tiny Cousland refused to flinch, no matter how much the stare made her skin crawl.

"Greetings, Mother, I bring before you four Grey Wardens who-" Morrigan began.

"I see them, girl. Hmm. Much as I expected." Morrigan's mother said in a voice that could only be called gravelly. Alistair chuckled.

"Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?" he asked wryly. Zeriah watched as the old woman approached him, circling around him like a hawk circles its prey.

"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one's eyes tight or open one's arms wide, either way, one is a fool." She cackled. Zeriah shivered then. This woman was obviously insane, but there was something formidable about her.

"She's a witch, I tell you! We shouldn't be talking to her!" Daveth hissed. Once again, Ser Jory was the one to speak up.

"Quiet, Daveth, if she's really a witch do you want to make her mad?" he grumbled. The witch arched her eyebrow at them, a cool smile on her face.

"There's a smart lad. Sadly irrelevant to the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will." She said cryptically. Her predatory gaze shifted to Zeriah once more, and the small warrior met her eyes without hesitation. "And what of you? Does your woman's mind give you a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as these boys do?" she crooned. Zeriah's brow furrowed.

"I am not sure what to believe." She answered simply. The witch cackled with delight.

"A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies! Be always aware…or is it oblivious? I can never remember." Her gaze became less focused, but the golden eyes did not look away from Zeriah. "So much about you is uncertain. And yet, I believe." Any trace of fogginess suddenly disappeared as the witch snapped back to attention. "Do I? Why, it seems I do!" Zeriah was extremely confused. Who was this woman? Why did she have to speak in riddles?

"So…this is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?" Alistair asked, doubt and sarcasm heavy in his smooth voice. Zeriah shrugged, as she had said, she did not know what to believe. Morrigan's mother laughed again.

"Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it. Oh, how she dances under the moon!" she chuckled. Morrigan's hand was on her forehead, trying to hide the blush that spread across her skin.

"Mother, they came for the treaties, not to listen to your wild tales." The young witch groaned. The mother glanced back at her daughter before looking at the wardens once more.

"True. And before you go barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these." She revealed, shoving a stack of papers into Alistair's waiting hands. The young warden looked at the treaties with surprise, and Zeriah could see that they were still in very good condition.

"You…oh…You protected them?" Alistair questioned. The witch shrugged.

"And why not? Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them the Blight's threat is greater than they realize." She replied before turning back to her hut. Morrigan began to wave them out of the clearing.

"Time for you to go then." Morrigan said cheerily. The witch turned back to face them.

"Now, now Morrigan, these are your guests. You will escort them out of the woods!" she ordered. Morrigan sighed and nodded.

"Follow me." She said resignedly before turning and heading back the way they came.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, hi! So clearly I replaced Origins Flemeth with DA2 Flemeth because, to be honest, she is significantly more intimidating in the second game. I'm sorry that I've been kind of spotty with my updates, but I hope you'll all stick with me! Thank you so much for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Duncan was still waiting patiently by the fire when they finally returned to camp. He didn't look up from the flames, but Zeriah knew that he was aware of their presence.

"You return successful, I hope?" he asked in his deep, melodic voice. Alistair nodded and began to hand him the treaties, but Duncan shook his head. "I want you to keep those close to you, Alistair. You are in charge of their protection." He said. Zeriah had an odd premonition then. The tone of his voice seemed sad, as though he knew that something bad would happen to him soon.

"We retrieved the vials and treaties easily enough, but I think I should tell you about the apostates we found in the Wilds." Alistair said. He clearly hadn't noticed Duncan's melancholy tone. The dark-skinned warden stood and raised an eyebrow at his young companion.

"Alistair, you are not a Templar. Apostates are none of your business. Also, I heard a rumor that you were harassing the mages this morning." He admonished. Alistair shrunk into himself like a child being scolded.

"You did tell us to try to improve relations with the other factions, and the Revered Mother asked me to deliver a message." He explained innocently. Zeriah rolled her eyes and Duncan groaned.

"Improving relations does not involve pestering mages." Their mentor pointed out. Alistair opened his mouth to protest, but nodded instead.

"You're right, Duncan. I apologize." He admitted. Duncan nodded and turned to the new recruits.

"I've had the circle mages preparing. Now that you have retrieved the blood, we can begin the Joining." He said. Zeriah snapped to attention.

"Will you tell us why the ritual has been such a secret?" she asked. Everyone stared at her with gaping expressions.

"I think that's more words than I've ever heard her say before." Daveth hissed to Ser Jory. The knight nodded in agreement. She ignored them and continued to stare at Duncan expectantly.

"I will not lie; we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now rather than later." He admitted. Zeriah nodded in understanding. Death might await her.

_"Would that be so bad? It's not like you have anything left in this world anyway."_ She thought. Duncan gave her a look that told her he knew her thoughts.

"I have no problem facing what is to come." She responded.

"Then let us begin. Alistair, take them to the old temple." Duncan ordered. Alistair nodded solemnly and gestured for them to follow. Daveth and Jory whispered like schoolgirls on the walk over, but Zeriah was unsurprisingly silent as she walked beside Alistair.

"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it." Jory said.

"Are you blubbering again?" Daveth said, rolling his eyes. Zeriah heard Jory scoff.

"Why all these damned tests? Have I not earned my place?" he grumbled. Daveth chuckled.

"Maybe it's tradition. Maybe they're just trying to annoy you." He teased. Jory huffed.

"All I know is that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me…it just doesn't seem fair." He groaned. Zeriah tripped, but Alistair's strong arms prevented her from falling to the ground.

"Are you all right?" Alistair asked. Zeriah nodded, but she could tell that he wasn't convinced. She knew that the blood had rushed out of her face at the mention of Highever. She hadn't even thought about what Howe might do to the city. Her shattered heart broke once more, but she didn't let it show. She couldn't look at Jory because she didn't have the heart to tell him that his wife might not be as safe as he thought.

"Would you have come if they'd warned you? Maybe that's why they don't. The Wardens do what they must, right?" Daveth pointed out.

"Including sacrificing us?" Jory whined. Zeriah continued staring at the ground. She could feel Alistair's worried gaze on her, but she wouldn't look at him. They finally entered the ruined temple, and the recruits' banter didn't end.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight." Daveth admitted. Zeriah was surprised. She had suspected that Daveth was just another shallow womanizer, but it appeared that he did have some depth to him. "You saw those darkspawn, ser knight. Wouldn't you die to protect your pretty wife from them?" he asked.

"I-"Jory began, but Daveth wasn't finished.

"Maybe you'll die. Maybe we'll all die. If nobody stops the darkspawn, we'll die for sure." The thief pointed out. Daveth's words were inspirational, but she was determined to ignore them. She was determined to die.

"I've just never faced a foe I could not engage with my blade." Jory muttered. Zeriah rolled her eyes. They saw Duncan entering the temple, but before he reached them Alistair pulled her aside.

"Zeriah, I can see the look in your eyes. I don't know what happened to you, but you can't give up. You can't just chase death. I don't know you, but if Duncan chose you it is because you showed him that you have the strength to defeat this Blight. Please, don't give up. Don't let your pain win." He begged his voice earnest. Zeriah realized that she was trembling. The young warden was more astute than she had previously thought. She felt a flash of anger, the first real emotion she had felt since the incident.

"You have no right to tell me what to do with my life." She growled. To her surprise, Alistair didn't look hurt or afraid. He looked pleased.

"You're right. But I have the right to tell you that you aren't alone. I am rooting for you." He promised in a soft voice. Zeriah turned from him, tears stinging her eyes. The goofy warden wouldn't get to her. She would die today whether he liked it or not.

"At last we come to the Joining." Duncan's voice rang across the temple ruins. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation." He took a pause before he continued. Zeriah was still fighting with the anger that now filled her soul, but what he said next made her pay attention. "So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint." Zeriah blinked startled green eyes. They had to drink the blood? She suddenly felt squeamish, but she shook it off. If drinking some blood was all she had to do to be with her family again, she would do it. Jory blanched.

"We're…going to drink the blood of those…those creatures?" he stammered. Duncan nodded solemnly.

"As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory." The warden explained. Jory was shaking his head.

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon." Alistair added. Zeriah couldn't tear her eyes away from his intense gaze. There was something familiar about his honey brown eyes that she just couldn't put a finger on.

"Let's get on with it, then." She said. Alistair looked sad, but she didn't care. Who was he to her?

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would." Duncan said. Alistair continued to stare at her with those familiar brown eyes.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn." He began. Zeriah noticed Jory eyeing the silver chalice with a wild, panicked look in his eyes. "And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day, we shall join you." He concluded. Duncan lifted the chalice and looked at his recruits.

"Daveth, step forward." He said. The thief took the blood-filled chalice without hesitation and drank. "From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden." Duncan said quietly. As Daveth handed the cup back, something began to change. His entire form started to quiver, and his eyes turned white as milk. He began clawing at his throat, and his face was red with agony. He screamed, and Zeriah didn't think she had ever heard such a terrible sound in her life. The thief collapsed to the ground, one last breath rattling his chest before he died. Alistair checked his pulse and shook his head sadly.

"Maker's Breath." Jory breathed.

"I am sorry, Daveth." Duncan said quietly. "Step forward, Jory." Zeriah saw the animalistic look in Jory's eyes as he backed up against a column. Her brow furrowed as he reached for his sword.

"But…I have a wife…a child! Had I known…" he whimpered. Duncan sighed sadly and set the chalice aside.

"There is no turning back." He said, his voice low. Jory shook his head again. His eyes could only be described as feral.

"No. You ask too much! There is no glory in this!" he cried. Zeriah felt more than saw Alistair slide protectively in front of her. Duncan drew his own blade as Jory took a sloppy swing at him. He easily deflected the blow and shoved the dagger into the knight's abdomen.

"I am sorry." The warden murmured as Jory groaned and collapsed to the ground. Zeriah's heart was racing, and she realized that she was actually afraid. She stared, horrified at what she had just witnessed. Duncan turned to her as he reclaimed the darkspawn blood. "But the Joining is not yet complete. You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good." Zeriah took the chalice in shaking hands, staring at the sloshing blood that was so red it was nearly black. One swig and she would die like Daveth did.

_"One drink and you will see father and mother again."_ She thought. Calm washed over her. Her hands stopped trembling, and she was filled with a sense of joy. She was so close. She drank deeply, ignoring the bitter taste, trying to focus on the faces of her family.

"From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden." She heard Duncan say distantly. The world was spinning, and her throat felt like she had just swallowed liquid fire. The ground came up to meet her, but she didn't feel it. She felt nothing but pain. Alistair's eyes came into her vision for a moment, but they were then replaced by a great dragon, roaring and spewing green fire. She felt her resolve slipping away. Finally, it was over! The faces of her family flashed before her:

Father.

Mother.

Oren.

Oriana.

Fergus.

Ser Gilmore.

Fergus.

Nan.

Fergus. Fergus. Fergus.

Words from remembered conversations flashed through her mind, overshadowing the agony that boiled the blood in her veins.

_"I'll miss you too, Shorty."_ Fergus murmured.

_ "Promise me you'll take care of them, sister."_ Fergus' last request to her.

_ "I love you, Zeriah."_ Bryce Cousland's voice said proudly.

_ "Go, Zeri. Live." _Ser Gilmore's final words before he shoved her away to freedom.

_"She will live, and make her mark on this world." _Her father wheezed as he struggled to stay alive.

_"Then live, darling. Become a Grey Warden and do what is right._" Her mother had lovingly told her.

_"Don't let your pain win…I am rooting for you."_ Alistair promised in his smooth voice. Zeriah's eyes snapped open and she stared death in the face.

"You will not have me. Not this day." She snarled, charging forward with a new sense of determination. Today would not be her last.


	5. Chapter 5

Alistair found it difficult to watch the small, beautiful warden writhing on the ground with an agony that he knew only too well. The memories of his own Joining were not pleasant ones, and to watch this woman that he, for some reason, felt attached to, go through that pain was almost unbearable. He could tell that she wasn't trying to fight it. She wanted it to kill her. He had been so hopeful before, when he had seen that flash of life enter her emerald eyes when he called her out on her death wish, that she would try to live. He had been so excited to see that emotion, even if it had been anger. As awful as it sounded, he had been happy to see the tears that sprang to her eyes because it meant that maybe, just maybe, she would make an effort. Apparently he was wrong.

Zeriah's Mabari whimpered and nudged his leg, clearly wondering why he wasn't doing anything to help her. The poor dog was probably about to lose his mistress, and Alistair had no idea what to do.

"Alistair, look." Duncan said beside him. He looked down and grinned when he saw determination etched on Zeriah's unconscious face. She was mumbling and sweat beaded on her brow. She was fighting back!

"She's done it." Alistair whispered. Duncan chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.

"She will live." He said with pride in his voice. Alistair glanced over at the man who had been like a father to him over the last six months.

"What happened to her, Duncan?" he asked, genuinely curious. A profound sadness filled Duncan's dark eyes as he thought about the question. The older man scratched at his beard and shook his head.

"There are some stories that should only be told by its heroine." He said sadly, staring down at the small woman, whose breathing was finally beginning to calm down. Alistair's mentor looked him in the eyes. "Just understand that she knows more of loss than any person that young should. If she wishes to tell you her story, she will in her own time." He told him. Alistair looked down at Zeriah's still form, curiosity burning even brighter, and nodded. He would not push her to reveal the ghosts of her past. He had secrets of his own, and he wouldn't want someone else to reveal them. The newest Warden moaned, and Duncan and Alistair immediately rushed to her side. Her green eyes snapped open, and Alistair was surprised at the change. Where before they had been empty and distant, now they were filled with cool determination. There was a hint of sorrow in them as well, but that faded to the background as she realized where she was. Alistair grinned at her. Maybe he would finally get to meet the real Zeriah.

* * *

Zeriah gasped as the pain suddenly subsided, and all she could see was a warm pair of honey-brown eyes smiling down at her. She had actually done it. She wasn't ready to die, not until he found Fergus and they wrought vengeance on Howe. Fury was the only thing she would allow herself to feel. Fury would be her motivation. Alistair helped her to her feet, holding onto her when she stumbled.

"I'm fine." She said quietly. Even she was surprised at how different her voice sounded now that she had something to live for. Duncan smiled at her.

"It is finished. Welcome." He said proudly. Zeriah nodded at him, not really knowing what to say. Alistair stepped away from her, shaking his head.

"Two more deaths. In my Joining only one of us died, but it was horrible. I'm glad at least one of you made it through." He told her, a small smile on his full lips. Zeriah blinked. Full lips? Maker, what was she thinking about that for?

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked. She thought for a moment. The pain had been terrible, but what was it compared to everything she had lost?

"It's over, I'm fine." She decided. Duncan nodded, understanding in his dark eyes.

"Did you have dreams? I had terrible dreams after my Joining." Alistair admitted. Zeriah studied his face for a long time. He was so…innocent. Part of her pitied him for it. Another part was jealous.

"Such things come when you sense the darkspawn, as we all do. That, and many other things can be explained in the months to come. Zeriah, King Cailan has requested your presence. He wishes you to attend an important meeting with me." Duncan said. Although it was phrased as a request, the order was clear. She nodded in understanding, and Alistair suddenly fumbled through his pockets.

"Before I forget, there is one final part of the joining. We take some of the blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us…of those who didn't make it this far." He said, handing her a chain with a delicate, blood-filled crystal attached. She stared at the hardened blood for a long time before gently placing it around her neck. She nodded her thanks before turning to follow Duncan. She was suddenly on the ground, being licked to death by a Mabari that was very happy to see her alive. She scratched behind Dane's ears fondly.

"I'm all right, Dane. I'm here." She said. The war hound gave her a final lick before allowing her to stand again. She whistled for him to follow, and the trio went to meet with the king. The monarch and his generals were already in the middle of a heated argument.

"Loghain, my decision is final. I will stand with the Grey Wardens in this assault." The young king commanded. Zeriah raised an eyebrow. She didn't know whether to think Cailan was brave or foolish. Loghain Mac Tir groaned, exhaustion in his icy blue eyes.

"You risk too much, Cailan! The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines." Zeriah felt inclined to agree with the old general. An heirless king should not be risking his life for glory. Cailan raised an eyebrow, and Zeriah was reminded of a child being scolded.

"If that's the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces after all." He said petulantly.

_"Fine, don't come. Maybe I'll ask Rory to go with me instead." Zeriah said petulantly. Fergus was suddenly more attentive._

_ "You can't do that!" he whined. She stuck her tongue out at her brother._

_ "Watch me!" she called before running out of her big brother's room in search of Rory._

Zeriah gasped at the sudden memory. She and Fergus had been very young, then. Just children. Zeriah had wanted to race their horses on the coast, but Fergus made the excuse that he was too old for such things. When she had threatened to bring a young Ser Gilmore along instead, his jealousy had won the day. She wiped away the tears that stung her eyes. Cailan's childish behavior reminded her of her own childishness years ago. She realized that everyone was staring at her and she blinked in surprise.

"My lady? I said I understand congratulations are in order?" the King repeated. She nodded.

"Err-Thank you, your grace." She said awkwardly. He gave a radiant smile.

"Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks." He said wistfully. Loghain groaned.

"Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Cailan. We must attend to reality." The grizzled veteran growled. Zeriah tuned out when they began discussing strategy, at least until she was mentioned again.

"Then we will send Alistair and Zeriah to light the beacon." The king decided. Zeriah blinked in surprise.

"Wait, you don't want me fighting in the battle?" she asked. Duncan turned to her.

"We need the beacon. Without it, Loghain's men won't know when to charge." He explained. She frowned.

"You see, glory for everyone!" the Theirin said excitedly. Zeriah found it hard to believe that this man was related to Kierrai. He was naïve and foolish, blinded by the opportunity of glory. Kierrai was intelligent, and while she usually acted on impulse, it was always for the greater good instead of for her selfish desires. As much as her friend didn't want the responsibility of rule, she would be a lot better at it than Cailan was. The rest of the meeting went by quickly: Duncan mentioned the possibility of seeing the archdemon, though that was almost immediately refuted by Loghain. There was an argument between a mage and a chantry mother that made Zeriah roll her eyes in irritation. Finally, they were dismissed, and Zeriah and Duncan met up with Alistair once more.

"You heard the plan, Zeriah. You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal to ensure that the beacon is lit." Duncan said. Alistair sputtered.

"What? I won't be in the battle?" he cried. Duncan shook his head.

"This is by the king's personal request, Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain's men will not know when to charge." He explained. Zeriah was surprised by the anger in Alistair's eyes.

"So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch. Just in case, right?" he said with bitter sarcasm. Even though he was oddly angry about the whole situation, Zeriah agreed with him.

"I feel inclined to agree with Alistair. We should be in the fighting." She argued. Duncan sighed.

"That is not your choice. If King Cailan wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there." He reiterated. Zeriah raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't Grey Wardens supposed to be neutral? Since we are the ones necessary to defeat the Blight, shouldn't we be making the decisions?" she retorted. Zeriah saw a smirk cross the older warden's mouth before it straightened into a thin line.

"We are neutral, but that doesn't mean we should anger the country that just let us back within their borders." He lectured. Zeriah watched Alistair lower his head for a moment before nodding.

"I get it, I get it. Just so you know: If the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line, darkspawn or no." he quipped. Zeriah couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her throat. Even though it was very short, it was the first time she had laughed since she lost her family. It felt good, to be honest. Alistair seemed as surprised as she was by the sound, and a goofy smile appeared on his face.

"I think I'd like to see that." She said, a tiny smile crossing her lips. His smile widened.

"For you, maybe. But it has to be a pretty dress." He agreed. Another laugh escaped her as Duncan groaned with embarrassment before proceeding to tell them where they were supposed to go.

"Remember that it will only be the two of you. Do not be reckless." He added. Zeriah raised an eyebrow and gestured to her offended Mabari.

"Two?" she asked without a hint of humor in her voice. She took her hound's status as warrior very seriously, as did Dane. Duncan raised his hands in apology.

"I apologize, how I could forget such a noble warrior is beyond me. Forgive me, Dane." He requested. Her caramel colored hound circled the old warden, studying him with wise brown eyes before barking an acceptance.

"Duncan. May the Maker watch over you." Alistair said. For the first time, he sounded genuinely worried. Duncan nodded solemnly.

"May he watch over us all." He said before turning and heading off to join the other wardens. Alistair looked down at her with a nervous smile.

"Ready?" he asked. She shrugged, and they headed over to the Tower of Ishal.

* * *

Zeriah glared up at the massive beast that stood before them. The amount of darkspawn that had flooded into the tower had far exceeded her expectations, and by the time they reached the top they were exhausted. To find an ogre there just irritated her.

The hideous creature's spittle flew through the air as it roared even louder than before. She gave a nod to Dane, who immediately charged it and began to attack the tendons in the monster's ankles. Alistair charged the beast head-on, while the mage they had picked up was using ice spells to slow the massive beast. Zeriah studied their situation while staying back from the battle. She noticed that the spot just beneath the creature's horns looked soft and vulnerable, and she decided to take a page from a rogue's book. Instead of charging with her shield like she normally would, she flanked the great beast. By some strange miracle, she found herself propped upon the ogre's neck, blade poised for the kill. There was no hesitation in her strike, and soon the nightmarish creature fell to the ground with an earth-shaking thud. Zeriah tumbled off, surprised that she wasn't dead. Alistair helped her to her feet and they ran to the beacon.

"We've surely missed the signal." He said worriedly as they lit the fire. The two wardens went over to the window to watch Loghain's forces end this battle once and for all. Instead, they saw the fires of Loghain's troops heading the wrong way.

"Oh, no." Zeriah breathed. Alistair seemed like he was in denial.

"No. He's going the wrong way! What are they doing?" he fretted. Zeriah looked up at him with empathy in her eyes.

"Alistair." She said softly. She saw the tears in his eyes as realization hit him. She glanced back out the window and saw the darkspawn overwhelm the human armies. She heard the horn that announced that the king was dead. Everything was happening so quickly that they didn't notice the darkspawn that burst through the door. The first arrow hit her in the side. She turned with a gasp as a second hit her in the shoulder. She heard Alistair's cry of pain as she fell to her knees. The third and final arrow caught her just below the rib. Before she blacked out, she thought she saw a pair of massive wings spreading before her.

_"I'm sorry, father."_ She thought before unconsciousness took her.


	6. Chapter 6

She felt the pain that coursed through her body before she tried to open her eyes. A moan escaped her, and her eyes snapped open in surprise. Her head was foggy, but she was certain she had never seen the run-down straw walls that surrounded her now. She was sure that the lumpy mattress she laid on was not one she had been in before. When a familiar face entered her vision, everything finally came together.

"Morrigan, what happened?" she asked, wincing as she tried sitting up. The young apostate raised an eyebrow at her as though she was surprised at her capacity for memory.

"The man who was supposed to aid you…quit the field. Your friend is not taking it well. Would it be rude of me to say he is being childish?" she drawled. Zeriah's eyes narrowed. He had every right to grieve.

"It would be rude, in fact. How did we get out of the tower?" she asked, trying to make the pounding in her head stop. Morrigan noticed her struggle, and a cool wave of healing magic washed over her. It didn't heal all the aches and pains in the places where she had been shot, but her headache was gone.

"Mother transformed into a giant bird and plucked the three of you out. She carried you in her talons all the way here." She said nonchalantly. Zeriah raised an eyebrow. The story wasn't very plausible, but she supposed it made enough sense. She did not know what kind of magic there was in the world, and transformation magic didn't seem too farfetched. She managed to stand, and Morrigan helped her back into her armor. The golden-eyed woman handed her a familiar sword and shield, and Zeriah nearly cried at the sight of them.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." She said gratefully. Morrigan nodded, clearly uncomfortable.

"I…I did nothing. It was all mother. But your welcome." She said awkwardly. Zeriah exited the hut and saw Dane and Alistair staring at the pond. Her hound's stub of a tail started thumping before he ever turned around, which alerted Alistair to her presence. The warden surprised her by gently touching her cheek.

"You…you're alive. I thought you were dead for sure." He murmured. The intensity behind his stare shocked her, and she slid away from his tender touch.

"I am fine, thanks to Morrigan's mother." She pointed out. Alistair blushed, and it was then that she noticed how sorrowful his eyes were. She found herself wondering if her own eyes looked like that, but then she realized that they were probably just vacant.

"This doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower." He continued. Zeriah didn't understand this man. He had lost everything, just as she had. Why wasn't he empty? Why wasn't he broken? Why was he able to feel? It wasn't fair that he got to go on with his life without issue after losing everything while she could only feel anger. Why did he get to not only be alive, but live?

"Don't speak of me as though I'm not present, lad." The old witch croaked from beside them. Alistair blushed again.

"I-I didn't mean… But what do we call you? You never told us your name…" he stammered. The woman chuckled.

"Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do." She said. Zeriah recognized the name from tales her mother used to tell her when she was a girl.

"The Flemeth? From the legends? Daveth was right, wasn't he? You're a Witch of the Wilds!" the blonde warden exclaimed. Zeriah didn't understand how he was able to feel anything but emptiness right now.

"And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic and it has served you both well, has it not?" Flemeth replied drily. Zeriah nodded.

"Yes, thank you. What are we supposed to do now?" she asked in a voice that was more irritated than she had intended.

"Someone has to deal with these darkspawn. As the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden, that duty would fall to you." Flemeth pointed out.

_"A Cousland always does their duty, Zeri."_ Bryce's voice echoed in her mind. She sighed, knowing that the ghost of her father was right.

"By ourselves?" Alistair sputtered. Flemeth cackled.

"And why not?" she asked.

"There must be someone we could go to." Zeriah spoke. Alistair frowned.

"We could go to Arl Eamon. I know him. He's a good man, he would help us!" he suggested. Zeriah remembered something.

"Do you still have the treaties? We could use those, couldn't we?" she asked. Alistair's eyes widened and he looked frantically for the treaties. Eventually, he pulled them out of one of his pockets with a sigh of relief.

"So this is it. We're doing this. We'll just…build an army?" he responded. Zeriah shrugged. She didn't have any better ideas.

"Before you go, I have something that could…assist you." Flemeth said, eyeing Morrigan as she approached.

"The stew is bubbling, mother dear. Shall we have two guests for the eve? Or none?" the dark beauty asked. She was clearly excited about the concept of their leaving.

"The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly girl, and you are going with them." Flemeth said in a voice that was so casual that it took Zeriah a moment to realize what she had said.

"Such a shame—What?" Morrigan yelped. Flemeth grinned wickedly.

"You heard me, girl. Last time I looked, you had ears!" she cackled. Zeriah saw a flash of fear in Morrigan's eyes.

"Thank you, I think that's an excellent idea." Zeriah admitted. A mage would be useful and necessary on their quest, and Morrigan seemed skilled enough.

"Have I no say in this?" the young witch sputtered.

"You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance. Wardens, consider this repayment for your lives." Flemeth drawled.

"Not to…look a gift horse in the mouth, but won't this add to our problems? Out of the Wilds she's an apostate." Alistair pointed out. Zeriah tugged at his arm.

"We need a mage, Alistair." She whispered. He sighed.

"I suppose you're right." He mumbled back. Morrigan and her mother were fighting about whether or not she was ready to be on her own. It seemed that Flemeth had won.

"Allow me to get my things, if you please." The young witch grumbled before disappearing into the hut for a few moments. She returned with a deadly-looking staff strapped to her back, along with a bag for supplies. "I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. Tis not far, and you will find much you need there. Or, if you prefer, I will be your silent guide." Zeriah glanced at her fellow warden, who shrugged.

"Let's go to this village." She decided. The four of them headed out, and after about an hour they reached the Imperial Highway just outside the village of Lothering. Ten seedy-looking men blocked their entrance into the village.

"Wake up, gentleman. More travelers to attend to. I'll assume the pretty one is the leader." Their leader said flirtatiously. Zeriah just gave him a blank stare. They really didn't have time for this.

"Err…they don't look much like them others. Maybe we should just let 'em pass." A large ogre of a man suggested. Zeriah rather liked that idea.

"Nonsense. Welcome travelers!" the leader said. Morrigan scoffed behind her.

"They are fools to get in our way. I say teach them a lesson." She snapped. The bandit leader shook his head.

"Tsk, tsk, now is that any way to greet someone? A simple ten silvers and you'll be free to move on." He said. Zeriah glowered up at him.

"You should listen to your friend, we're not refugees, and we aren't going to pay your toll." She hissed. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Listen here, little girl, either you pay the toll, you turn around, or you die. Your choice." He crooned. Zeriah was furious. She thought about all the families that this man had robbed, and her decision was simple.

"You forgot option four." She said softly as her belt-knife was shoved into his throat. "You die." The men panicked as their leader fell, clawing at his neck, and they died just as quickly. Morrigan eyed her curiously.

"That was surprising, to say the least." She crooned. Zeriah shrugged at her, giving her the same empty gaze she had carried for a week.

"I hate being mistaken for a child." She replied flatly. Morrigan's eyes widened before she barked a laugh. Nothing else was said as they made their way into the small village. They stopped at the edge, looking at the peaceful little town.

"Well, there it is. Lothering. Pretty as a painting." Alistair said. Zeriah was surprised, as he hadn't said a word since leaving the hut.

"Ah, so you have finally rejoined us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed like too much trouble, I take it?" Morrigan teased. Alistair glared daggers at her. Zeriah could tell that they would be a problem.

"Is my being upset so hard for you to understand? Have you never lost someone important to you? What would you do if your mother had died?" he snapped. The witch smirked.

"Before or after I stopped laughing?" she quipped. Alistair sighed.

"Right, very creepy, forget I asked." He droned. Zeriah glowered at Morrigan.

"Leave him alone, Morrigan." She growled. The witch turned her golden gaze on her.

"But how can I, when he stands there with the wide stare of a brainless calf?" she replied with a chuckle.

"Oh, I get it. This is the part where we're shocked to discover you've never had a friend in your whole life." Alistair said drily. Morrigan gave a pleasant smile.

"I can be friendly when I desire to. Alas, desiring to be intelligent does not make it so." She said sweetly. Alistair stared at her for a while before shaking his head and turning to Zeriah.

"Anyway, I thought we should talk about what we intended to do first." He said. Zeriah didn't hesitate.

"I need to find Fergus. He might still be alive." She replied. She was surprised to see a flash of jealousy appear in Alistair's sad eyes.

"Who is Fergus?" he asked cautiously.

"He is my brother. The king said he was out scouting in the wilds." She explained, causing Alistair's eyes to soften in relief.

"Then attempting to look for him there would be foolish. He is either dead or he managed to flee north." Morrigan said in her usual careless manner. Zeriah turned to her, a storm of rage in her green eyes.

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't look for him. He is my brother!" she barked. Morrigan wasn't deterred.

"That's exactly what it means. You'll either find him outside the Wilds with other survivors, or not at all." She said calmly. Zeriah felt a serious urge to hit the woman before her, even if her advice was sound. Alistair seemed to sense this and he stepped between them.

"I think we should use these treaties." He said quickly. Zeriah gave him an expectant look, and he explained them in detail. They were to call upon the Dalish elves, the Circle mages, and the dwarves of Orzammar. Each treaty required the parties to aid Grey Wardens during a Blight, and they couldn't refuse to do so. "I also think Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first." He added. Zeriah thought for a moment. She didn't know Eamon very well, but she trusted Alistair.

"Let's get supplies first, and then we can discuss this." She said, turning and heading into the small village.


	7. Chapter 7

Zeriah looked around the chantry. It reminded her of the old chapel in Highever Castle: its simplicity making it beautiful. She shook her head, trying to remove the memory from her mind. After everything that had happened, she wasn't sure if she believed in the Maker anymore. She noticed Alistair staring at a man nearby.

"Ser Donall? Is that you?" he asked. The knight turned as recognition lit his face.

"Alistair? By the Maker, how are you? I…I was certain you were dead!" he said, embracing her fellow warden. Alistair returned the hug before leaning back.

"I almost was, thanks to Teyrn Loghain." He said, with irritation in his tone. Donall nodded in understanding.

"If Arl Eamon were well, he would set Loghain straight soon enough." He said. Zeriah arched an eyebrow as Alistair's face took on an expression of shock.

"He's sick? How did this happen? If he's sick, what are you doing here?" he asked. She could tell that her companion was devastated, and she didn't really know what to do. The knight sighed.

"All the knights in Redcliffe are searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes." He explained. Zeriah blinked.

"You're hunting for a myth? That is your plan?" she asked in shock. The knight shrugged.

"We don't have another choice. We went to the Circle to see if the mages would help us, but the tower is sealed off. Apparently all the mages are turning into abominations or something." He said as though that meant nothing.

"What? But…we need the mages!" Alistair sputtered. Zeriah shook her head. What else would go wrong today?

"I don't know what else to tell you, lad. I need to go. It was good to see you, Alistair, take care." The knight said. Zeriah and Alistair stared at each other for a long time.

"I have a feeling things just got more difficult." Alistair groaned. Zeriah nodded.

"Let's go get some supplies." She suggested.

Supplies were easy to acquire, and Zeriah decided that they should head to the tavern to see if they could hear any news there. They entered the small inn, and saw a small group of soldiers standing there, Loghain's crest on all of their shields.

"Shit." She muttered when their leader noticed them. He grinned at her.

"Well, look what we have here, men. I think we've just been blessed." He said in a deep voice. Zeriah's hand twitched toward her sword.

"Didn't we spend all morning asking about a woman by this very description? And everyone said they hadn't seen her?" his second said with a grin that matched the captain's.

"It seems we were lied to." The leader said angrily. Suddenly there was a flash of red hair and cream-colored robes between them.

"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more peasants seeking refuge." The young chantry sister said in an accent that was obviously Orlesian. One of the men shoved the woman aside.

"There is no need to be violent toward a chantry sister. You came here for me, so come and get me." She crooned. The man grumbled in appreciation.

"I will have your traitorous head, Warden." He said before shouting the order to attack. The battle was short and sweet due to the surprising assistance from the sister. She was a whirlwind with blades: a dangerous combination. Soon, the only foe left was the leader.

"I surrender!" he panted. The sister smiled cheerfully.

"Good, they've learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now." She said. Zeriah looked down at her hostage. She could feel Alistair tensing behind her, and she made a choice.

"Take a message to Loghain." She said. Alistair sighed in relief, and it made her consider the choices she had made recently. Was she turning into a monster?

"Yes, anything!" the man begged. She saw a bead of sweat run down his forehead, and she watched it until it vanished into his beard.

"Tell him that we know who the real traitor is, and that he will not succeed in this treachery." She hissed before sheathing her weapon. The man nodded, terror in his eyes.

"I'll tell him." He cried before scrambling to his feet and sprinting out of the tavern. The sister stepped before her with a charming smile. She wasn't tall, but she still towered over Zeriah. Her short red hair was neatly combed with a single braid running down the front, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with delight.

"I apologize for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by and not help." She said in her sweet voice. Zeriah just stared at her. The sister reminded her of a cream puff: too sweet and fluffy for her tastes.

"Yes, well, thanks. I have to go." She said, turning away.

"Oh! Are we going?" the sister said excitedly. Zeriah glanced at Alistair, whose expression was just as confused as her own.

"I am going. You are not. I don't even know you." She said slowly. The sister laughed.

"My apologies! I am Leliana, a lay sister in the Lothering chantry. Or at least, I was." She rambled. Zeriah shook her head in confusion.

"Fascinating. You're still not coming with us." She reiterated. Leliana smiled.

"Of course I am! The Maker wants me to go with you." She said plainly. Morrigan groaned.

"More crazy? I thought we were all full up." Alistair quipped. Zeriah shrugged.

"Unfortunately for you, the Maker and I aren't exactly on good terms. No." she said again, turning on her heel and leaving the frowning sister behind. It was not the last they saw of her, however. She caught them before they were about to head out of the village.

"Oh, hello again. Will you let me help you now?" she asked politely. Zeriah groaned.

"Not you again." She moaned.

"I have to be honest, when I heard about the Blight, I knew I had to help. And then I had the vision from the Maker. It cannot be coincidence that you are brought to me so shortly after I was called by the Maker." She said reverently. Alistair snorted at the expression on Zeriah's face. She looked so exasperated that he couldn't help but laugh.

"Her pleas seem whole-hearted, and even though she seems a little…strange…she does have skill. I say we take her along." Her fellow warden said. Zeriah looked up at him with a deadpanned expression.

"Alistair, she's one archdemon short of a Blight." She said drily. He roared with laughter, but quickly collected himself.

"Yes, but she seems more 'Ooh, pretty colors!' than 'Muahaha! I am Princess Stabbity! Stab, kill-kill!'" he replied cheerily. Zeriah's lips twitched in a small smile, and she fought against the laughter that bubbled in her throat.

"All right, but if she's a problem: You get to deal with her." She agreed. Leliana clapped her hands in excitement.

"I will get my things and meet you by the windmill!" she called, running off toward the chantry. Zeriah sighed. What was she getting herself into? As they approached the windmill, they noticed a strange sight. A giant, grey-skinned man with violet eyes stood in a cage. Zeriah was too curious to ignore him and she rushed over. The grey giant looked down at her with annoyance.

"Be gone, human. I am not an animal to be gawked at." He said in a low, menacing voice. Zeriah frowned.

"My name is Zeriah, who are you?" she asked politely. The massive man raised an eyebrow.

"You mock me. Or you show manners I have not previously encountered in this country. I am Sten of the Beresaad. The vanguard of the Qunari people." He said slowly.

"The Revered Mother said he slaughtered an entire family, even the children." Leliana said from behind them. Zeriah turned with surprise to see the sister in leather armor, wearing a sorrowful expression. Sten nodded.

"It is as she says." He said simply. Zeriah blinked. Nobody just admitted to doing something like that. The Qunari man intrigued her.

"Not to put too fine a point on it, but Qunari are renowned warriors. If we could release him, perhaps he might help us." Alistair suggested. She was surprised that his thoughts mirrored her own.

"I find myself in need of skilled help." She said. The Qunari studied her.

"No doubt. What help to you seek?" he asked blandly. Zeriah found that she liked this man. He wasn't the type to push her into feeling something.

"I am a Grey Warden, sworn to defend the land against the Blight." She told him.

"My people have heard tales of the Grey Warden's strength and skill…though I suppose not every story can be true." He replied. Zeriah blinked. Had he just insulted her? She wasn't surprised. When you barely reached five feet, people didn't tend to take you seriously, especially not as a warrior. She waved him off.

"Do any of you know how to pick locks?" she asked her companions. It was Leliana who stepped forward and eagerly began working at the lock. It opened with a loud pop, and the giant stepped out. Zeriah suddenly felt like a very small bug. She already felt like a child when she stood next to Alistair, but this creature towered over even the tall warden. He stared down at all of them.

"I will follow you into battle. In doing so I shall find my atonement." He said prophetically. Zeriah nodded.

"It's good to have you with us." She told him. He frowned, or maybe it was just his usual facial expression.

"We shall see." He said. They decided to continue on their way, opting to find armor for the grey-skinned giant later when they saw a group of angry villagers rushing over to the now-empty cage. They heard shouts ahead, and saw a pair of dwarves trying to fight off a small group of darkspawn. Zeriah and Alistair immediately sprang into action, charging into the fray together. It was hard to fight with another person at her back, but Zeriah figured that they would learn to be more efficient as time went on. The battle was over before it truly began, and Zeriah turned to the terrified dwarves.

"Mighty timely arrival there, my friend. I'm much obliged." The older one said graciously. Zeriah nodded.

"I am glad to have been of assistance. Stay safe." She said before turning to leave.

"Wait! The name's Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. This here's my son, Sandal." The dwarf said hurriedly.

"I'm Zeriah, and I really must go." She urged. Bodahn shook his head.

"Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Maybe we're going the same way." He suggested. Zeriah weighed the benefits of having a merchant travel with them, and she nodded in agreement.

"Maybe we are. How about this: You travel with us and, in exchange for our protection, give us a discount on your goods?" she persuaded. She had always had exceptional bartering skills. The dwarf nodded eagerly.

"Sounds like a fair deal to me. Come along, Sandal, it's time to go." He said. The young, blonde dwarf looked at his father with wide blue eyes.

"Enchantment?" he asked excitedly. Zeriah raised an eyebrow. Bodahn shrugged.

"The boy's a bit slow, but he has an unnatural talent for enchanting weapons." He explained. Zeriah nodded in understanding, filing away that bit of information for later. The group left Lothering, then, traveling until the light in the sky began to fade. Zeriah called a halt, and they finally stopped to make camp. She sat by the fire, taking care of her weapons and armor until they looked like new.

_"Your sword is like your Mabari: Take care of it, and it'll take care of you. Treat it badly, and it'll do the same." _Bryce's words echoed through her mind. It was a piece of advice that she had always taken to heart. She stared at the familiar laurel leaf crest stamped on the pommel of the blade, and more memories began to wash over her.

_"What do they mean, Papa?" Zeriah asked as she stared at the crest emblazoned on the shield before her. Bryce Cousland chuckled and set her on his lap._

_ "The laurel is a symbol of peace and protection, Pup. It is said that they are like a shield against things that would harm us." He explained. The dark-haired child scoffed._

_ "What could harm us, Papa? We're Couslands! Nothing will stand in our way!" she cried triumphantly. Her father ruffled her hair._

_ "Now, Pup, you must always remember that as a Cousland, it is your duty to protect our people and to show them the loyalty they have shown us." He reminded her. "Tell me the family words." He ordered. She sighed._

_ "Fortius quo fidelius." She said, stumbling over the strange tongue. Bryce nodded proudly._

_ "And what does that mean in our language?" he prodded. _

_ "Strength through loyalty." She repeated, not really understanding what the words were supposed to mean._

Zeriah laughed bitterly. Loyalty had gotten her family killed. She ran a finger across the crest one last time before noticing a pair of legs before her. She followed them up to see Alistair looking down at her with a worried expression.

"Zeriah, are you…all right?" he asked. She wondered why he would be asking that before realizing that tears were streaming down her face. She touched her damp cheek in wonder.

"I…No. No, I'm not." She admitted. He crouched in front of her.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked softly. She shook her head.

"No. Thank you. I should get some rest." She said before quickly standing and moving over to her bedroll. She squeezed her eyes shut and slowed her breathing, not expecting the overwhelming slumber that overtook her.

* * *

The dragon roared fiercely at her, but she was stuck on the ledge with nowhere to go. She waved her sword, but it easily swatted the tiny weapon out of her hand, sending it to the chasm below. The beast laughed as only a dragon could before enveloping her in bright green flame.

"No!"

* * *

"No!" she screamed. She was covered in cold sweat, and she was trembling from head to toe. She checked to see that the family sword was still by her side, and gave a sigh of relief when she realized that it was.

"Bad dreams, huh?" Alistair's voice asked. She immediately looked to see him watching her from the other side of the fire. Zeriah still felt in shock. She was surprised that she wasn't on fire.

"It seemed so…real…" she said softly. Alistair nodded and came over to sit beside her.

"Well it is…sort of. You see the archdemon, that big scary dragon you probably saw, it talks to the darkspawn. And since we sense the darkspawn…" he explained. She nodded in understanding.

"We also receive its messages." She added. He nodded. "Anything else I should know about?" He shrugged.

"Eventually you'll be able to block the dreams out. It takes practice, but I'll teach you how to do it. I just…wanted to let you know. I heard you thrashing around and I remembered how scary it was for me in the beginning." He admitted.

"I'm not frightened." She immediately responded. His expression was slightly hurt, and to her surprise, she actually felt guilty about it. "Alistair." She said as he began to walk away. He paused and looked back at her. "Thank you. For telling me, I mean." She said awkwardly. He smiled warmly at her.

"That's what I'm here for: To deliver terrible news and witty one-liners." He remarked. She smiled to herself as he returned to his own bedroll. After falling asleep, no other nightmares entered her mind from the archdemon or her own haunted memories.

* * *

**A/N: **You guys, I am so sorry that I haven't posted in a while. I've been insanely busy! But this story is still going on, so no worries! I gave you two chapters as an apology! Thank you for sticking with me!


	8. Chapter 8

She was up before the dawn the next day, and to her surprise, so was Alistair. He was stirring a large pot of…something. Zeriah rubbed grainy eyes and stared at the grey mess that was bubbling in the pot. Alistair gave her a sheepish grin.

"I'm not really the best cook, but we need to eat something, right?" he asked hesitantly. Zeriah took a deep breath and nodded, scooping some of the clumpy…oatmeal…into a bowl. Alistair looked mortified, so she steeled herself and took the first bite. It was, without a doubt, the most terrible tasting thing she had ever put in her mouth, and she had been known to eat dirt and bugs as a child.

But, even though it was awful, she ate every single bite. She was the only one to do so, as most of the others ate a few bites before dumping their bowls on the ground. Even Dane whimpered and whined, refusing to get near the…food. This made Zeriah feel so guilty that she smiled weakly and requested a second bowl. Alistair's jaw dropped as he watched her eat every bite of the second bowl as well. As she wiped her mouth, she realized that he was staring at her.

"Thank you." She said politely. Alistair chuckled.

"You didn't have to do that." He said in awe. She raised an eyebrow as she stood.

"Do what?" she asked before walking away. She got her things ready before turning to look at her tiny band of crazy misfits, honestly wondering how in the world they were going to stop a Blight. They all met around the fire, ready to plan.

"What is the plan, captain?" Leliana asked cheerfully. Zeriah was looking at Alistair, who was looking at her expectantly. She sighed. They were putting her in charge. She supposed that technically she was trained for that, though that wasn't known by anyone in her party other than Dane, and he wouldn't talk.

"Based on the information we received yesterday, I think that we need to head either to the Circle tower or Redcliffe." She said slowly. The chipper redhead nodded in agreement. Morrigan shook her head.

"I still think we should go straight to the enemy. Loghain would never expect a direct assault." The young witch suggested. Sten shook his head.

"If we went straight into enemy territory we would be caught and unable to defeat the Blight. Such a plan is pointless." He said, echoing Zeriah's own thoughts. Morrigan opened her mouth to argue with the large Kossith, but he raised a hand. "Do not argue, _bas_." He said. To Zeriah's surprise, the witch said nothing. Everything was silent for a long time, until Morrigan finally found the words she was looking for. Zeriah couldn't hear herself think over the shouting that was coming from the apostate and the giant, and when Leliana joined in she nearly left. It was then that Alistair caught her eye. His lips were poised to say something.

"Silence." Zeriah said in a soft, commanding tone. Nobody listened to her, so she repeated her order in a slightly louder voice. "Silence." Everyone stopped, then, staring at her. "Look, everyone, you chose to put me in charge of this insane group of vagabonds, so I expect you to follow my orders. Even if those orders are for you to shut up." She explained. Her mother would be proud of her calm, cool demeanor. "Alistair, you have something to say?" she finished, turning to her fellow warden. He nodded.

"I think that we should go to the Circle first. Their situation sounds more time-sensitive." He said. Zeriah nodded in acceptance.

"I agree. The Circle is essential to us, and we need them ready to fight." She settled. The group nodded and began to ready themselves for their journey. Bodahn offered to give them a ride in his cart, and some of them took him up on the offer. Zeriah, however, chose to walk. Sten and Alistair walked with her for a time, but Sten got tired and climbed on the cart. He hadn't had freedom of movement in weeks, so the exertion was too much for him. Alistair didn't prod her to talk, and she was grateful for it. However, he had a sadness in his eyes that, for whatever reason, upset her. She still hadn't figured out why his eyes were so familiar, but seeing them filled with sorrow made her want to fix it.

"Do you want to talk about Duncan?" she asked quietly. Alistair looked surprised.

"You…you don't have to do that." He replied. She shook her head.

"Sometimes it helps to talk. I know he was important to you." She said. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"He was. He recruited me, and at the time the only thing I cared about was getting away from the Templars and the Chantry, but now I am starting to see that he saved me. Sure, the life of a Grey Warden is essentially a doomed one, but I belong in this life. I never felt like I could be anything, like I could change anything, until I joined the Wardens. Now I feel like I mean something, and that is all because of Duncan. He saved me." He said. Zeriah was seriously reevaluating the young warden. At first she had just thought that he was a goofy, empty-headed joker, but he was starting to show her that he was more than that. Much more. He was intelligent and eloquent. Regardless of what Morrigan said, he was smarter than most people she knew. He noticed things that others didn't. Alistair used his humor as a shield, and he allowed others to assume that he was stupid because it was safer.

"_Stop it."_ She told herself. Another voice joined her own in her mind.

"_No, no, keep it up. Why are you trying to stop this?"_ an echo of Kierrai asked her. Zeriah shook her head, and Alistair kept on talking.

"_I don't have room in my heart for love."_ She retorted, fighting against the words that she knew her best friend would be saying if she were here in actuality instead of just in her mind. Kierrai's imagined snort of laughter was so accurate that it was almost real.

"_Bullshit. You are using an empty façade as a shield just as he uses his humor. You are scared of the pain of losing-" _her friend pointed out.

"_Shut it." _She snapped in her mind. She could practically see Kierrai's nonchalant shrug.

"_Fine. But delaying the pain isn't going to make it go away, and it's just going to make it hurt worse. You might as well let him in so that you have someone to share it with."_ The echo said before fading away. Zeriah realized that Alistair had just asked her a question.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked, embarrassed.

"I asked if you've had anyone close to you die?" he repeated. Zeriah felt as though she had been frozen solid. The blood in her veins froze, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Father. Mother. Oriana. Oren. Ser Gilmore. Ser Darian. Nan. Fergus.

"I-I…" she couldn't speak. He had taken her completely by surprise. "I'm going to ride with Bodahn." She blurted before running up and hopping on the cart. She saw the hurt on Alistair's face, but she couldn't do it. Not yet.

Hours passed, and she still hadn't spoken a word to her fellow warden. When it was time to stop for the day, Alistair volunteered to take the first watch, and Zeriah set up her bedroll as far from him as possible. Kierrai's imagined words kept running through her mind.

_"Let him in."_ Zeriah couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, but she could feel her armor beginning to crack. Somehow, this genuine, goofy warden could see right through her, and she didn't know how to fight it. She was in trouble.

* * *

Ostagar had happened nearly two weeks ago, and they still hadn't reached the Circle tower. They were delayed by a series of things: On the second day, one of the axles on Bodahn's cart snapped, and they had to wait two days for it to get repaired. After that, they got caught in a rainstorm that was so bad it was flooding the roads, and it made them unable to travel. Zeriah hadn't spoken to Alistair in six days, because she was afraid to let him into her heart. One night, as Zeriah was on watch, she heard footsteps behind her.

"What did I do to offend you so badly?" Alistair asked in a shockingly angry tone. Zeriah whipped around to look at him. His face was so full of hurt and confusion and anger that her guilt was overwhelming.

"Nothing." She replied quietly. He shook his head.

"I must have done something, because you haven't spoken to me in days. You avoid me at all costs, you won't even acknowledge that I exist! If I did something, you need to tell me, because I'm tired of playing guessing games." He snapped. She closed her eyes.

"You did nothing, Alistair. It's me. It's…I am terrified of letting you get too close to me." She whispered. His gaze softened and he sat beside her.

"Why, Zeriah? I can't help you if you don't tell me." He answered softly. She took a deep breath. Was she finally ready to reveal the secrets that she had locked away so tightly? Her bottom lip trembled.

"Before we met…I lived in Highever." She said. Alistair nodded.

"Like Ser Jory? I figured that, considering your shield bears the heraldry." he pointed out.

"Sort of. My shield doesn't bear the heraldry of Highever, specifically. It is the heraldry of…of the Couslands." She explained. His eyes widened.

"So you-you're a Cousland? We had all figured that you were a noble, but we didn't expect that you were a Teryn's daughter!" he exclaimed. She nodded slowly, and the tears started to build up.

"I was a Teyrn's daughter. Now, unless my brother lives, I suppose I am technically a Teyrna." She said, her voice weak. Alistair looked confused for a moment, but then the realization hit him.

"Oh…what…what happened?" he asked. She closed her eyes and told her tale. How her father's vassal had purposely delayed his forces to betray her family. How she had been awakened in the middle of the night to find a war happening in the hallway. How she had seen her nephew, sister-in-law, friend, nanny, and countless others murdered and violated in her home. How she had felt her father's blood course over her fingers as he died. How her mother had sacrificed herself so that she would live. Zeriah was practically incoherent by the time she finished. Repeating the story was like slicing the wound open all over again. She felt physical pain, and it took her a long time to realize that Alistair had taken her into his arms and was stroking her hair. She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed against his chest. As much as it hurt, it felt good to finally tell someone. She actually felt safe wrapped in his strong arms. When she finally pulled away, she saw that she had absolutely destroyed his shirt with her tears.

"Your shirt-I'm sorry." She said, wiping her eyes. He looked down and laughed softly.

"Zeriah, my shirt isn't really important here. You are." He pointed out. "I won't apologize for what happened to you, but I will say that I am here for you. I will always be here for you." He promised. She shook her head.

"Not always. Never promise always. But…thank you. It helps to have…someone…" she said quietly. He nodded.

"A friend, Zeriah. You can say it." He said. She smiled softly.

"A friend." She repeated. She felt a warmth inside her where before there was only a frigid wasteland. Fear gripped her heart. She had let him in as a friend, but the way he looked at her now suggested that something more might develop, and she didn't know if she was ready to handle that. The sinking feeling she got when he told her they would be friends was another red flag. It hurt that he only saw her as a friend. She was surprised by the flood of emotions she was having. She had spent such a long time feeling nothing but anger that anything else was completely foreign. Alistair smiled at her and her cold heart melted even more.

"You should get some rest, Zeriah. I'll take over." He said warmly. She smiled and nodded.

"Thank you, Alistair. Really, I mean it." She said before heading off to bed.

* * *

Alistair watched her walk over to her bedroll with a smile on his face. He had been aching inside in the days that she wasn't speaking to him, thinking that he had done something to hurt her. He sighed, what she had been through was horrific. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to lose your entire family all at once. He felt like an idiot for being so morose over losing one person when she had lost so many. However, he was also happier than he had been in weeks. That beautiful, intriguing woman had finally shown her humanity, and she had chosen to open up to _him._ He was honored. Alistair glanced over at her once more to see that she was already sound asleep. He sighed. She was a smart, sophisticated noblewoman, and he was a goofy, immature man-child who had been raised in a chantry. She would never be interested in him. She outranked him on every level.

"Well, technically, you outrank her." He muttered. He shook his head. It wouldn't matter. He would never get anywhere near the throne, and he was perfectly happy with that. He looked at her serene sleeping face one last time before turning and continuing his watch.


End file.
